by J. Kenner
Cass glances between the two of us. “That was the most romantic thing ever. ” She turns her focus to Jackson. “Is there an XX chromosome version of you out there?”
“Sorry. Just the one brother. ”
She makes a face. “That you know of,” she says, and both Jackson and I have to laugh.
She drifts off, her head tucked up against his chest and his arm around her shoulders.
“You look very parental,” I say, and the light from the street-lamps as we turn into the marina must catch his face strangely, because for a moment it looks as though he flinches.
The illusion passes quickly as he smiles. “I’m hoping that I won’t find any daughter of mine quite this wasted. ” But he strokes her hair as he speaks, and I can’t help thinking that Jackson will be the kind of dad who’ll protect his family with a wild ferocity, even if that means sacrificing himself.
And as Edward takes us the rest of the distance to Jackson’s boat, I realize he’s proven that already. Not for a daughter, but for me. Because god knows when he beat the crap out of Robert Cabot Reed, he did a hell of a lot more for me than my father ever did. Page 50
It’s a nice thought—a comforting one. Because as the memory of all those camera flashes lingers, I can’t help but fear what might be coming our way. The assault. The movie. Reed’s photos of me. A whole shitstorm of gossip that we will inevitably have to face.
And though I’m not certain I’m strong enough to handle the storm—and although I know that Jackson’s first instinct might be to beat the crap out of whoever is dishing it out—I know that whatever else he does, he will protect me. My knight on his shiny white horse.
Frankly, that is a damn nice feeling.
When we get on the boat, it’s clear that there will be no after-party for Cass. “I’ll take her down and put her in the guest room,” I say.
“While you do that, why don’t I open a bottle of wine? It’s a clear night. How do you feel about the two of us sitting on the deck and watching the stars?”
“I feel exceptionally good about it. Give me five minutes to get her settled. ”
Fortunately, she’s mobile, if wobbly, and I’m able to get her stripped down to bra and panties quickly. “In you go,” I say, pulling the sheets back and helping her in. “I’ll wake you in the morning before I go to work. ”
She mumbles something incoherent that I translate as “good night,” and I start to tiptoe for the door. But just as I’m about to step into the hallway, her soft “Syl,” calls me back.
“You okay?”
She holds out her hand. “Stay? Just ’til I fall asleep?”
I hesitate, thinking about Jackson and the wine and the stars above us. But this is my best friend, and she needs me, and there’s really no debate to be had. I’m at her side in seconds. “Scoot over,” I say, then lay down beside her. She spoons against me, and I close my eyes, realizing as I do that exhaustion has been creeping up on me as well.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For taking care of me. ”
“I think Jackson doled out the most care tonight. ”
“Not tonight. Forever. For being my best friend. ”
I smile, touched. “Yeah, well, it’s a little self-serving. I get a great best friend in return. ”
“Aren’t we lucky?”
“We are,” I say. “We really are. ”
My eyes are closed, and I wait for Cass to say something else. But there is just silence, and after a few moments, the rhythm of her breathing changes and I feel the steady rise and fall of her chest against my back.
I tell myself to open my eyes and get up, but then I tell myself that if I just lay here quietly for another minute or two I’ll be all re-energized. Since that sounds like a fabulous plan, I keep my eyes closed and just let myself drift and drift and drift. …
I startle awake, gasping a bit, and then immediately relax when I see Jackson sitting in the room’s single chair opposite me. “Oh, hell,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I guess I fell asleep. ”
“You needed it. ”
I start to sit up.
“No. Don’t wake her. ”
He stands and crosses to me. I shift enough so that I can look up at him as he reaches down to brush my cheek with the oddest expression. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says. “I was just thinking about the look on your face. ”
“What about it?”
“Peaceful. Content. ” He pauses. Just for a heartbeat. “I don’t like seeing it when you’re in anyone’s arms but mine. ”
I frown and start to push up out of the bed. “Jackson, I—”
“No, no. ” He gently holds me in place. “I just want you all to myself. But I’m a big boy and I’d never begrudge you your friends. Stay,” he says. “She needs you. ”
“Jackson …”
But he just presses a kiss to his fingertips and then brushes them over my lips. “Good night, sweetheart. ”
I try to fall back asleep after he’s gone, but I can’t seem to manage it. And so I very carefully slide out of Cass’s embrace and go across the little hall to Jackson’s room. He’s not there, but I find him on deck in one of the oversized lounge chairs, asleep under the stars.
I slide in next to him, then pull up the blanket from the foot of the lounger to protect us from the cool night air.
He rolls over, then pulls me against him, enveloping me with his warmth. “I meant what I said,” he murmurs sleepily. “She needs you. You could have stayed. ”
“I did stay,” I say. “And then I came here. Because you need me, too. ”
He is silent for a moment. Then the arm that he has swung around my waist tightens just slightly. “Yes,” he says. “I do. ” Page 51
fifteen
I’m pretty sure the items on my to-do list are breeding.
There’s no other explanation as to how I can spend the entire day tackling task after task after task and still have no end in sight.
Even so, I love it.
One of the Stark International drivers drove Jackson and me in to work together, and I spent this entire Friday morning on a conference call soliciting requests for proposals from five of the largest food service companies in the country. I’ve got an intern pulling the names of the top twenty chefs across the country, each of whom I intend to contact about the possibility of opening a signature restaurant on-site at the resort.
I’ve negotiated a tentative deal with the FAA to allow a short airstrip on the island, and I have even scheduled a meeting with the local EPA office to discuss my most favorite topic in the world—endangered cave crickets.
More specifically, endangered cave crickets that might actually hold up construction if we don’t get the little buggers squared away quickly.
All in all, I’m feeling pretty damn smug when Trent Leiter eases around my cubicle wall and leans against my filing cabinet.
“Heard the news,” he says. “Jackson’s back on the project. What did you do? Bribe Stark?” He frowns. “No, wait. Hard to bribe the man who owns half the world. ”
“I think Mr. Stark just realized that the press from the assault doesn’t have to negatively impact the project. ”
His brows lift as he grins. “Negatively impact? What, did public relations send around a memo?”
“Actually, yes. ” The PR department had circulated a memo that morning addressing how anyone on staff who is not me, Damien, or Aiden should respond if approached about Jackson’s arrest. “The proper responses are ‘no comment,’ ‘no comment,’ and ‘no comment. ’ I came up with the part about the lack of negative impact all on my own. ”
“Catchy,” he says. “Wish I knew the whole story. ”
He eyes me speculatively, but I just shrug. “I’ve worked directly for Mr. Stark for five years, but that doesn’t mean I’m in his head. And since when did you become such a gossip hound?”
<
br /> “Just making conversation. ”
“Yeah, how’s this? Jackson’s better than a good luck charm. Three problems tackled in just one morning. The FAA came through. I got the guest ferry all squared away—we can launch from San Pedro and Long Beach, and unless I miss my guess, I’ll have a launch site from Marina del Rey set up soon. And, I scored a meeting with the EPA dude. ”
“That’s great,” he says, but he sounds distracted.
I can’t really hold that against him. It’s not his project, and I’m sure he’s got plenty of problems of his own to deal with. “So how’s the Century City site going?” I ask, more out of politeness than interest.
“Not as smoothly. ” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I guess I need to find my own good luck charm. ”
“I’m sorry. ” Though Trent isn’t my favorite person, and I don’t understand what Rachel sees in him, he is a colleague, and I don’t wish him ill. “Can I help?”
He shakes his head and makes a motion with his hand as if he’s waving away smoke. “No, no. I didn’t mean to make it sound dire. I’m distracted by something else. Everything in Century City is moving forward. ” He takes a paper clip from a bowl on my desk and starts to unfold it. “Honestly, once you’ve been in this business a bit longer, you’ll realize that bumps in the road are just part of a day on the job. ”
I lean back in my chair and nod, not sure if he’s trying to be helpful, or if this is his backhanded way of telling me I’m too new and raw to actually be managing a project, even with Aiden’s help.
That’s hardly a question I’m going to ask, though, and so I opt for that time-honored tactic of conversational diversion. “So, you and Rachel are going out?”
He lifts a shoulder as he focuses on the star pattern into which he’s bent the paper clip. “She’s a lot of fun. ”
That is hardly the most romantic endorsement, but I know that Rachel is happy. I hope that Trent just isn’t the kind to over-share about his relationships, and for the time being, I’m sticking with that assessment. Because so far, today has been awesome. And nothing—not cave crickets or irritating co-workers or the fear that another friend’s relationship is on the skids—is going to spoil my mood.
Fifteen minutes later, my cell phone chirps, and when I glance at the text from Cass, I realize I should never have tempted the gods. Page 52
Check out the pics. Not viral, but lots of shares. I look drunk, but hot. U look hot, and sober. Jackson looks like sex, but he always does.
There’s a link, and I click through. She’s right—we both do look hot. And Jackson, who is holding up Cass on the other side, looks good enough to eat. To be honest, if Cass didn’t look so wasted it would be a good picture to frame for my desk. Both Jackson and I have soft expressions, and though we’re clearly focused on keeping Cass upright, the moment is so gentle and sweet that I want to bend down and kiss his photo since the man himself isn’t right beside me.
I’m about to send her back a text thanking her for the link when she sends another message.
Zee saw pic and freaked. Said it looked like I was screwing both of U.
Be proud. I stood firm. Told her we were over.
It’s done. Holy fuck.
I respond immediately:
I am proud!!!!! U did good. Hold fast. We’ll find the right girl for u.
It takes a moment, but her reply when it comes through makes me smile:
In time for Halloween party wld be nice. And thx. XXOO.
And here are some more for your computer wallpaper.
There is another link, this one to images of Jackson and me. There is one of us at the table, just looking at each other, but the heat in our eyes is palpable. Another is positively awesome, and I hope that I can find a high-quality version so that I can print it. Because someone actually caught our dance—right when Jackson dipped me. The picture is slightly blurred, suggesting motion, and we both look like we couldn’t be having a better time if we tried. Frankly, that’s how I always feel with him.
These images come with captions, too, and I’m now the official subject of celebrity gossip, because I have been identified on social media as starchitect Jackson Steele’s girlfriend.
Honestly, I can’t say that I mind.
Love these, I text to Cass. Thx.
Her reply makes me frown.
:) But there are other pics, too. These might not make you happy. Is J around? Has he been online?
As far as I know, Jackson is on twenty-six with Lauren Crane, who has recently been promoted from the file room to work as his assistant until his secretary arrives from New York. If everything is going well, he’s walking the floor with her and giving both Lauren and the construction staff directions on where to put up walls and doors, where to set up drafting tables, and all the other minutiae that comes with getting his area built out the way he wants it.
Since a couple of guys from his New York staff are arriving in ten days with his secretary, he’s been crazy busy, and I would be seriously surprised if he’s noticed anything happening out in cyber-land.
I don’t say all of that to Cass, though. Instead, I just text back, I doubt he’s seen any pics. What up?
She responds with two links. The first leads to more advertising photos of me, some of which have been merged with recent images of Jackson and turned into social media graphics. Great. My childhood trauma has become someone else’s social media pastime. Isn’t that wonderful?
The second link is more immediate, and just as disturbing. On this site, I find a picture of Graham Elliott, his arm hooked buddy-buddy style around Jackson’s shoulders.
Well, hell.
My fears are confirmed when I get Cass’s next text:
Buzz is that the movie is a go and Graham is playing Jackson. Tell J not to blow a gasket.
I roll my eyes. Easier said than done.
I tell Cass I need to get back to work, which is technically true. But instead I scour the internet. Sure enough, the speculation is back about the movie, with the press opining that Graham was the go-between, healing the rift between Reed and Jackson Steele, who was recently arrested for assaulting the producer-director.
Isn’t that just so sweet?
I consider giving Jackson a heads-up, but decide that he has enough to worry about. Since there’s nothing he can do about the pictures and comments, I might as well wait until work is over and he has a drink in his hand.
I’m just settling back into work when my intercom buzzes. “Mr. Stark asked me to tell you that you and he and Mr. Ward and Mr. Steele are scheduled to have dinner at Cut 360. Seven tonight with Dallas Sykes. I’ve already told Mr. Ward,” Karen adds, referring to Aiden. “And he said to tell you that Mrs. Stark will be joining you. ”
“Wait, slow down. ” I click frantically on my computer to open my calendar. “I don’t know a thing about this. ”
“Apparently Mr. Sykes is in town and wants to meet Mr. Steele. Mr. Stark said to apologize, but that you two need to be there unless it’s absolutely impossible. ”
Which, I know, translates to just be there. Dallas Sykes is a gorgeous, brash, tabloid-friendly department store mogul who is also the primary investor in The Resort at Cortez. Page 53
“Okay,” I say, because what else is there to say? “I’ll let Mr. Steele know. ”
“Great. And you have a call holding on three. He says he’s your brother. ”
That’s odd, since Ethan has my cell phone number, and knows I prefer not to take personal calls through the office number. I answer warily, but it really is my little brother.
“What’s up?” I ask, immediately on alert. “Are you okay? Why aren’t you calling my cell?”
“Hey, Silly,” he says, using the nickname he’s called me since he was three and I was six. My full name is Eleanor Sylvia Brooks. But that’s what came out of his little baby mouth. “Great to hear your voice, too. ”
&nb
sp; “My darling little brother. How wonderful to hear from you on the phone you never call me on, thus making me worry. And then teasing me about worrying. ”
“I’m fine. ” I hear the laughter in his voice. “I lost my phone and couldn’t remember your number. ”
I shake my head, but I am smiling. That’s Ethan. My scatterbrained brother, whom I absolutely adore.
“Do I need to arrange to have your phone surgically attached to your body?”
“I think I’ll just scour the apartment again. The place is a mess from all the packing. It’s probably under a box. ”
Since his stuff is being shipped from London—and that process takes weeks—I hope it didn’t accidentally end up inside a box. But I keep my thoughts to myself. No point in being the voice of doom.
“I saw your picture this morning. You and Cass look great. But what’s the deal with Jackson Steele? He’s the guy you dated for a while in Atlanta, right? You guys are back together?”
“We are,” I say, “and I’ll tell you all about it—and introduce you—on Wednesday. You’re still getting in around four, right?”
“Yup. I have to go through customs, so do you just want me to text you when I’m heading outside?”
“That’ll work. And are you sure you don’t want to go with me to Jamie’s Halloween party on Friday? Stark keeps a suite at the Century Plaza and it’s empty right now. You could have it through the weekend. ”
“That would be sweet, but I want to get down to Irvine and hang with Mom and Dad. ”
“Fair enough, but I was really hoping to spend some time with you. ”
“Well, they’re your parents, too. You can hang out down there with us. ”
The thought makes me shudder. “In case you forgot, I have work. In another city. ” I say all this brightly, as if that is the only reason I don’t want to spend time with my parents.
“Well, it’s not like there won’t be more chances,” he says reasonably. “Considering I’m moving back to California, we’ll see each other a lot. ” He’s been living in London, so I can’t argue with that. “And as for the rest, you’re staying for dinner at Mom and Dad’s on Wednesday night, so we’ll have some time then. ”
Just the thought of going to my parents’ house makes me edgy. “Listen, there’s been a slight change of plans. ”
“Don’t you dare blow me off. ”
“Work is insane right now, so I thought I’d send a limo for you. Get you to Irvine in style. ”
“You are such a liar. We just agreed that I should text you when I get out of customs. ”
“I meant text the limo,” I say, lying again.
“Bullshit. Come on, Syl. Mom says she never sees you. That you came back from Atlanta, landed your high-paying job, and fell off the planet. ”
To be fair, I fell off the planet as far as my parents are concerned when I moved into an exclusive Beverly Hills boarding school for my sophomore year of high school. I don’t say that to Ethan, though. Instead, I just say, “Work is crazy right now. ”
“Are you ever going to tell me what the big drama is between you and them?”
